R5 Festuscato: Wild and Dangerous, part 3 of 3

After a while, Mirowen spoke to Festuscato, softly.

“Diogenes or no Diogenes, you are still too young.  Let Atias and Roan deal with Castinus.”

“I am young,” Festuscato admitted.  “Let them handle it,” he decided, but when he thought of his mother and father, he wanted to take it back.  He wanted to change his mind, but he didn’t.

MIrowen, whom Mister March and the others sometimes called Princess, took over the running of the household in Festuscato’s name.  She brought in some of her own people to fill the gaps left by those who died in the assault.  Of course, she made sure they maintained glamours at all times to appear as human as possible, and while the remaining British servants found them odd, they got along well enough.

Festuscato turned nine the following year and in October received the letter intended for his father.  He got commanded to attend a special meeting of the Senate where Valentinian III and his mother Galla Placidia would be present and introduced to the Vir Illustris as Emperor and Regent.

“But it will be nothing but long winded speeches and boring stuff,” Festuscato complained.  Mirowen made him dress all the same and stay clean all morning.  They rode to the Senate building, guarded by four men dressed as house guards.  Festuscato did not ask what kind of men they were.  To be honest, he did not want to know.

When they arrived at the Curia, the long-winded speeches had already begun.  The great bronze doors opened, and as they walked in, Festuscato hoped he could find a comfortable place at the back where he could take a snooze.  No such luck. The man on the floor paused while a man at the back announced him.

“Bring him here,” a woman at the front insisted, and Festuscato got ushered to where he stood in plain sight of everyone present.  “I heard about your father,” the woman said.  “I was not aware he had a son, but I am pleased you are here. And you have brought a companion, I see.”

“My governess,” Festuscato said, as Mirowen touched him and he offered a slight bow. Mirowen curtsied and spoke.

“I am Mirowen, daughter of Macreedy, King of the Long March hard on Wales and the Isle of Man in Britannia, and I am pleased to present Festuscato Cassius Agitus, son of Lucius Agitus, a fervent supporter of yourself and your son.  After Lord Lucius was so cruelly murdered, under the direction of Lord Festuscato, we did our best to continue to support you with whatever small contribution we could make.”  She stood demurely, eyes down, but Festuscato saw Galla Placidia raise her eyebrows.  The contributions had not been so small.

“We are grateful for your support, young Agitus, and you may count yourself in our favor. Come and sit yourself beside my son so we may have the two young men together.  And let your governess sit beside you, there.”  The woman pointed.  It was down one step, but an unparalleled honor.  Festuscato felt obligated to say something and hoped he did not say too much.

“You are gracious to your humble servant,” Festuscato offered another slight bow. “I am honored also to be in the company of so many illustrious men.  I will endeavor to keep my eyes and ears open for the impartation of wisdom, though at my age it will not be easy, isn’t that right?”  He looked straight at Valentinian who nodded vigorously before he looked at his mother.  Galla Placidia frowned on top of her smile as Festuscato and Mirowen took their seats, and Mirowen pinched Festuscato.  He knew better than to yelp, but the Regent saw and nodded, satisfied.

“Gentlemen. We will dispense with further acclamations and words of support for the moment out of deference to the young.  I will gladly receive your written words on behalf of my son, but presently we have business to which we must attend.” A man came to the Regent’s side and handed her some papers.  The next hour got taken up extolling the virtues and military prowess of one Flavius Aetius.  The man came in, flanked by two of the strangest looking men Festuscato had ever seen. They were Huns, but Festuscato did not know that at the time.

Aetius got honored and commissioned to be Magister Militum per Gallius; essentially, commander in chief of the Roman army in Gaul.  Festuscato had no idea who the governor of the province might be.  He never got mentioned.  But such were the times that only the military mattered, and specifically one who could defend the border.  Aetius would have to work well with plenty of German Fedoratti, some of whom did not like each other, and the border pressure would not stop.  Just fifteen years earlier Rome had been burned by the Visigoths, and that was not something anyone wanted to see repeated.

Festuscato tried really hard to keep his eyes open so Mirowen would stop pinching him. Valentinian noticed, and he stayed awake primarily by watching Festuscato droop his head and get pinched. Valentinian winced, but grinned every time it happened.  Finally Aetius with papers in hand, brought forth another man, one dressed in the robes of the church.

“Bishop Guithelm, Archbishop of Londinium, newly appointed.”  Aetius introduced the man, and they waited while the man came forward.

“Regent,” the cleric bowed his head and turned.  “Emperor,” he bowed again, and it all came with too much formality for Festuscato, who stuck his elbows on his knees to prop his chin up with his hands. “Lord Agitus.”  The man shouted and hurried over to hug the boy. Festuscato felt surprised for a second before he recognized the man.  He knew the man as the cleric from the house whose life he presumably saved. The Bishop told the whole story right there in front of everyone, and Festuscato turned as red from embarrassment as Mirowen’s ears turned when she got angry.

Aetius came to collect the Bishop, but took a long look at Festuscato.  “Come and see me when you are older,” he whispered.  “I can always use a good man.”

“Well, young Agitus,” Galla Placidia also looked again at Festuscato, but it seemed hard to read the expression on her face.  “And how old, in fact are you?”

“Nine,” Festuscato said, honestly enough.

“I’m seven,” Valentinian blurted out, but amended that with a look from his mother. “Nearly seven.”

“Quite the accomplished young man,” Galla Placidia’s words sounded a bit cold. “Perhaps we can call upon your wisdom to decide what to do about our other business.”  She waved a hand and a man got brought forward in what Festuscato could only call a fifth century straight jacket.  The guards who dragged him to the front let him drop to his knees and he cried out, unintelligible sounds of torment and tears.

“Help me,” the man shouted.  “They come in the night.  They come in the day.  Always accusing, invisible monsters, horrors, terrors, on the edge of my eyes, accusing, always accusing.  Murderer!” He screamed and spouted more unintelligible sounds before he quieted in his tears.

“Castinus.” Galla Placidia still had her eyes on Festuscato.  “He ordered the murder of your parents among others.  What do you say we should do with him?”

Festuscato felt horrified to look at the man whose mind had been utterly broken by madness. Surely, the furies themselves could not have done a more thorough job.  Festuscato looked once at Mirowen, but she would not look at him.  The Huns with Aetius appeared to be grinning beneath their hands.  Aetius looked curious at what the young man might say.  The Bishop appeared willing to wait.  Valentinian had his mouth open, staring.

“Put him out of his misery,” Festuscato fairly shouted, and looked at the Regent, tears in his own eyes.  “When a horse breaks a leg, you do not force it to suffer.  Why should we show less compassion on a man whose mind is clearly broken beyond repair?”  The Bishop nodded, satisfied with the verdict.  Aetius looked again, like this might have been an angle he had not considered. The Huns stopped grinning and nodded. Galla Placidia said nothing.  She waved her hand and the prisoner got escorted out of the Curia.

“General Aetius.” The Regent sought to change the subject. “You will provide safe escort for the Bishop.”

Aetius, the politician, responded.  “I so pledge to bring him safely to the channel in the far north.  However, after that, he will be on his own.  We have no presence in the free province of Britannia, nor can anyone guarantee his safety.”

“That will be more than gracious,” the Bishop said.  “And no one is on his own when Christ walks beside him.”

“Of course,” Aetius let out a small smile and gave a slight bow.

After that, it took a couple more hours of blither and blather, while Festuscato went back to fighting sleep.

When it was all over, Festuscato got invited to supper with Galla Placidia and Valentinian. It felt like more formalities, but the Regent appeared to want to talk with Mirowen, and that let Festuscato breathe. He tried to be good, but Valentinian seemed taken with him so he could not exactly escape.  He did not have anything against the boy, but Valentinian was not so bright, or maybe he lived so sheltered a life it became impossible to tell if he was bright or not.  Then, there was three years of difference, which probably would not mean much when they were thirty or thirty-three, but it felt like a big gap at six and nine.

Mirowen and their four guards found a place in town for the night.  Festuscato practically went to sleep before he hit the bed.  In the morning, they moved quietly out of town, Festuscato and Mirowen side by side and the four that Festuscato started calling the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse right behind.

“What on earth did you talk about with that woman?” Festuscato asked.

“About children, mostly.  She seemed impressed that you were learning your letters and both Greek and Brythonic.”

“I’m learning Greek?”

“As soon as we get home.”

“Buggers,” Festuscato adjusted his thinking.  He decided having an elf for a governess had no advantages.  “Did she say anything nice about me?”

“She said you seemed too wild and rebellious for her son.  A bad influence, and maybe dangerous besides.”

“Well.  I’m glad she liked me.”  Festuscato closed his mouth.

************************

Next Monday:  Festuscato, The Cad in Ravena    Until then, Happy Reading

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R5 Festuscato: Wild and Dangerous, part 2 of 3

Festuscato had no idea what year it was and honestly did not care.  Living just south of Rome in a time of warming, he did well to know what season it was.  Mirowen began to correct that, first by teaching him her British tongue, which he already knew some from it being spoken around the house, then eventually by making him sit and learn to read and write, not only in his native Latin, but in Greek.  When he got older, she forced him to converse in continental Gallic and Old German as well.

It turned to 423, a year when they apparently had a civil war going on.  Castinus, the bad guy, forced the appointment of a man named Joannes to be the new Western Roman Emperor.  Father wrote to the Eastern Emperor, Theodosius, and persuaded him to appoint someone else.  He appointed Valentinian III, a child, and his mother, Galla Placidia as regent until he came of age.  So, they had war between the west and the east, and Mirowen took local matters into her own hands.  She taught Festuscato and his friends how to shoot a bow and hit a target.  She taught them how to wield a knife and defend themselves.  Most of all, she taught them how to escape and hide when the odds were against them, so they could come back and fight another day.

Festuscato turned eight in 424, and the summer turned long and hot.  That was the summer Castinus, the bad guy, decided to eliminate his enemies in the senate, which was anyone who secretly supported Valentinian with money.  How he made his list, no one knew, but it appeared to be accurate; though some, like Festuscato’s father, were obvious.  Festuscato felt surprised when his mother made no objection to the boys learning to defend themselves.  Six months later, Festuscato’s father talked about moving the family to their estates by Ravena which sat well within Valentinian’s territory.  Sadly, he did not move soon enough.

A balmy afternoon arrived.  Festuscato and the boys lounged around the woods just down from the house, at the side of the house where the tenant houses could just be made out in the distance. The woods separated the lands and fields of Lord Agitus from his neighbor, Velleius Fulvia who was Senatorial rank, second class, Vir Spectabilis, and who said that was sufficient because he preferred the quiet life and had no serious interest in politics. Besides that, he was reported to be a miser who had no intention of buying a first-class invitation to the Curia.

Festuscato had met his neighbor several times, generally when he messed around in the man’s garden, and once when he painted “F C Rocks” on the man’s barn.  Of course, he had not done any such thing since Mirowen arrived.  He could not lose her, much as he tried.  She stayed, always there, somewhere, in the background, virtually invisible, watching. On the other hand, as he had thought, there were compensations.

“Gaius needs target practice,” he shouted into the wind.

“I do not,” Gaius said.

“Yes you do,” Dibs responded as Mirowen showed up from somewhere.  She had a scroll in her hand from the extensive Agitus library collection.  She had been reading all about Julius Caesar, and King Bodanagus, the better to know the human race, she often told Festuscato.

“I imagined you boys were going to laze away the whole day,” she said.  “Come.  The target is already up.  Let us get your bows and begin.”

“When do we get to practice on a moving target?” Festuscato asked quietly.

“Not this time,” Mirowen said, but she smiled because certainly a still target would only be good for the basics.

“Hey!” Felix noticed first and pointed.

“Velleius Fulvia,” Festuscato named the man who rode up to the front gate with several other men in tow.  “What’s up?”

“They look like clerics,” Gaius said.  Festuscato shook his head.  His father was a Christian, certainly, but he was not exactly a pious man.

“Maybe they are collecting for the poor,” Felix suggested.

“Not from Velleius Fulvia,” Festuscato and Dibs said at the same time.

“He’s a Humbug,” Festuscato explained.  “You know, a Scrooge.”  No one understood what he was talking about, but then he did not either, exactly.  They got their bows and plenty of arrows.

Festuscato and the boys mostly hit the target with their arrows.  Festuscato pushed himself to be the best, but Dibs got pretty good, too. Felix was not bad.  Gaius needed work, but Mirowen seemed wonderfully patient.

Suddenly, forty more men appeared on the road, and these looked like ruffians and brigands. They came to the house like an invading army.  The front gate and the front door proved no obstacles, and soon there were shouts and screams from inside the house.

“Boys,” Mirowen said sharply.  “Bring the bows and arrows.  Come!” She made it a command, and she took the boys back toward the edge of the little woods that edged the property on that side. Someone inside the house must have been watching, because shortly, twenty men came out of the side door and started toward the boys.

“Get all of the boys,” one man said.  “That way we are sure to get the son.”  They spread out and zeroed in on the trees, some with bows ready, but mostly with swords drawn.

“Stop!” Mirowen stepped out when they were still some distance away, but she was able to make herself heard.  “These boys are under my protection.”

The men stopped, but only briefly to laugh before they yelled and shouted and charged. They began to go down, one arrow per customer.  Then two other archers joined Mirowen and in almost no time, every man except one had died, and that one, mortally wounded, moaned on the ground.

Festuscato stepped up beside Mirowen and took her hand.  She had put away her bow, but had her long knife out in her other hand. The boys were a bit slower, but they followed along while the two men who had mysteriously appeared questioned the one man still living.  “Castinus,” the man freely admitted before he died.  Then the two men went into the house to finish the rest.

Dibs stepped up to Mirowen’s other side and complained.  “I didn’t even get to fire my arrow.”

Mirowen squatted, though Dibs stood tall for an eight-year-old.  “And pray you never need to,” she said.

“Those are an elf and a fairy.”  Festuscato watched the men.

“Lord Atias and Lord Roan,” Mirowen admitted.

“Wait.” Festuscato heard a scream come from the upstairs and ran after the men.  Mirowen and the others kept up, but inside the house it seemed all chaos.  A good dozen ruffians carried swords and drawn knives, and some of the sharp weapons had blood on them.  Festuscato was not put off by the blood, because he no longer stood there. Diogenes of Pella took his place, and he came dressed in the armor of the Kairos and had Defender, his long knife in his hand.  Excalibur, the sword, stayed on his back.

Diogenes called and knew his voice would be heard no matter the yelling and screaming in the house.  Atias and Roan attended him.  He sent Roan in one direction.  He sent Atias in the other, and he took the center and the open courtyard.  He killed a man in the foyer, and pulled his sword when he reached the court.

A man, a cleric came stumbling into the courtyard from a back room where he had been hiding. Two ugly fellows followed, clearly with murder on their minds.  Diogenes let Defender fly straight into the chest of one of the men.  The man fell, shock and surprise on his face, but his fellow saw something and swung his sword down toward the cleric and Diogenes, like he could not make up his mind.  It proved a wild swing which Diogenes easily parried, and Excalibur cut across the man’s belly all in the same motion.  The man collapsed and his insides greeted the tile flooring.

An arrow came from the upstairs balcony that overlooked the courtyard.  It bounced off the armor of Hephaestus and would not even leave a bruise, but it got Diogenes to look up and growl, a pure Macedonian growl. The man took a big step back before Mister March shoved the man off the balcony.  The man screamed, but it became a short-lived scream.

Diogenes called to Defender, and it vacated the man’s chest, shook itself clean of blood in mid-air and raced back to Diogenes’ hand.  Excalibur flew into the air, cleaned itself and sheathed itself across Diogenes’ back.

“All clear.” Diogenes heard the call from Atias and saw the man wave from the balcony opposite Mister March.

“Done,” Lord Roan added from some back room where he could not be seen.

“Festus,” Mirowen called, but it sounded like a searching call, not a cry for help call. Diogenes nodded and went away. Festuscato returned in his own clothes, with his own bow in one hand, but he held tight to Defender with his other hand.  He stepped up to the cleric.

“You okay?”

The cleric looked up, a handkerchief in his hand full of sweat from his brow.  “Yes, yes.  Where is the young man who fought so bravely?”  He looked around for Diogenes.

“This was the young man,” Lord Atias said as he came to the courtyard and put a hand on Festuscato’s shoulder.  “Young Agitus himself.”

“It was an exercise of great courage on the part of one so young,” Lord Roan said, as he appeared in their midst.

“More like an exercise of great stupidity,” Mirowen said, as she marched from the back followed by three boys who gawked at the dead.  “Mister March,” she called.

“Oh no,” Festuscato whined.  “You’re not going to spank me.  Aren’t I getting too old for that?”

“Son, you saved my life,” the cleric spoke and reached out to Festuscato for a hug. Festuscato took a good look for the first time at the dead men around him, and he thought to say something to the cleric.

“Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.”  The cleric just laughed and hugged Festuscato all the harder as the tenant farmers came pouring into the house.  They carried knives, cleavers, axes or whatever sharp farm implement they could carry and were prepared to do battle.  They were not slaves, more like serfs, but Lord Agitus had been good to them and they knew if they lost their bread and butter, they had nowhere else to go.

“Hold it!” Mirowen shouted, and the men paused. “Get your muddy, filthy shoes off the tiles and carpets.  You need to take the dead outside for burial, and be quick about it, before they stink up the house.  I’m going to have to get this house scrubbed from top to bottom.”  She put her hands on her hips and frowned.  The men looked to Mister March, but he knew what was what.

“You heard the Princess.  Get your shoes off and start collecting the dead.”  The men nodded and some tipped their hats.

Festuscato suddenly broke free of his hug.  “Mother? Father?”  He started to ask, but Mister March grabbed him and hugged him.

“Hush,” he said and shook his head over Festuscato’s shoulder.  Mirowen took over, and Festuscato began to cry.

Velleius Fulvia took that moment to come out of a cupboard.  “Is it safe?” he asked.  The cleric and the boys all laughed, loud.

R5 Festuscato: Wild and Dangerous, part 1 of 3

She appeared much too beautiful to be human.  Her black hair fell full but straight, and no doubt long beneath her red cloak and hood. Her features looked sharp, but her tears suggested a softness in her heart.  Behind those tears, she had the hint of eyes as blue and bright as the sky on a sunny day.  Her dress looked like silk, a soft pink held fast by a clasp of gold that sparkled with flashes of red in the sun, a splash of jewels to match the ruby on her ring. Mostly, she looked young, perhaps twenty-one, but that made the picture altogether curious and somehow wrong. There was no way such a rich and beautiful young woman should be walking, much less walking alone on the Appian Way.

Festuscato, all of seven, covered in mud and presently sitting in an orange tree by the side of the road, pondered this vision as well as a seven-year-old can ponder such things.  This girl should have had a dozen guards, and several servants and handmaids besides. And they should have been on horseback, if she was not in a carriage.  After all, it was just thirteen years gone since Alaric and his Visigoths sacked Rome.  And worse, father said Emperor Honorius recently died and he got angry because Castinus, the bad guy, was going to cause riots in the streets.  Festuscato did not follow all of that, but he believed his father.

Festuscato held his breath.  The young woman came over to the side of the road and sat quietly on the grass, in the shade, right beneath his tree.  Festuscato thought it was too perfect.  He quietly plucked a ripe orange, stretched his arm out and aimed as well as he could. Then he thought he ought to give fair warning.

“Bombs away,” he yelled and let the orange drop.  He missed by a good foot to the girl’s left, but the girl reached out with super speed and snatched the orange before it touched the ground.

“Thank you,” the girl said.  “I was a bit hungry.”

“Hey!” Festuscato wanted to protest, but he hardly knew what to say.  He scrambled down the tree and she stood to face him.  “How did you do that?” he asked.

“Magic,” the girl said with a grin, which suggested she might be having fun with him. She had the orange peeled in no time and offered one piece to him.  Festuscato shook his head.

“I am sick of oranges,” he said honestly enough, as a thought occurred to him and came bounding out of his mouth.  “Are you running away from home?”

The girl smiled. “I am a long way from home.  My name is Mirowen.  Do you have a name or should I just call you grubby?”

“I’m Festus. I’m an orphan and I’ve run away from home, too.  Like Greta, I’m going to have an adventure and save the world.”  Festuscato returned the girl’s smile, but on his face, it did not appear nearly as convincing.

Mirowen paused in her orange eating to look serious for a moment.  “How can you run away from home if you are an orphan who has no home?  I think you are going to have to work on your lying, not that I am recommending it.”

“Hey, Festus.” A boy down the street called and waved. There were three boys, all about the same age as Festuscato, and all just about as dirty.

“Hey!” Festuscato waved back.  “Come and meet my friends.”  He reached for Mirowen’s hand and she did not hesitate to give it to him, even if it meant being dragged down the street.  “Hey guys.  I want you to meet my girlfriend, Mirowen.”

Three boys stopped still and looked stunned.

“This is Felix, Gaius and Dibs.  Say hello, fellas.”

“Awe,” Felix mouthed and threw his hands out.   “How can you have a girlfriend?  You’re only seven.  I thought maybe it was your new nurse.”

“Nurse?  I don’t need a nurse.”  Festuscato protested.

“He’s had three so far,” Gaius said.  “He ran one off, got one to beg to be released from the duty, and one died, mysteriously.”

“I ate her,” Festuscato said, with a straight face.

“Awe,” Felix repeated the word and the gesture.  “Don’t listen to him.  He just likes to give Dibs nightmares.”

“I see,” Mirowen said with a glance at Festuscato.  She let go of the boy’s hand and smiled her warmest smile.  “Maybe you can help me.  I am looking for the home of Senator Lucius Agitus.  Do you know where that might be?”

“Why that’s – ow!” Festuscato stomped on Felix’s foot.

“I know where it is.  I can take you there,” Festuscato spoke quickly.  “But I have to warn you, the lady of the house is a witch in disguise, and the Senator likes to yell all the time, and loud.”

“I’ll be extra careful,” Mirowen said, and this time she took his hand.  “You boys coming?”  The three fell in behind, though they did not appear happy about it.

The house, truly a Roman mansion, was not far.  It sat up on top of a small rise and overlooked the Appian way for a good distance in both directions, though it was far enough in the countryside to be out of sight from the city.  Some of the tenant houses could be seen in the distance, out by the fields, and the house had one great meadow nearby where horses grazed lazily in the sun. Everything about the place said money, lots of money.

“Wait.” Festuscato stopped them outside the main gate.  “Let me check your ears.”

“My ears?” Mirowen sounded curious, but bent down a little toward the boy.  He pushed her luxurious hair back just far enough to touch the tips of her ears before he spoke.

“Just want to be sure your glamour is good.  Can’t have an undisguised elf about the place.”  Mirowen said nothing.  Her eyes got big and then very narrow as she stared at Festuscato.  “Oh, I know an elf when I see one,” he said.  “You are much too beautiful for a human.”  Mirowen heard the compliment, but it felt confusing. She turned to look at the boys following, but they merely shrugged, like this was not even close to the first time Festuscato said something strange.

Mister March came to the door and took one look at Festuscato, mud and all, before he remarked. “You are a brave fellow.”

“Most of the staff is Celtic,” Festuscato ignored the man and talked to Mirowen.  “Mostly from Britain.”

Mirowen looked up and spoke in some strange language.  Mister March answered, and they began a spirited conversation. Festuscato stayed quiet, but he tried to follow what he could by the words he knew and the hand gestures.  It did him no good, but they were shortly interrupted in any case by a woman’s voice.

“March, what is it?”  At the sound of that voice, Festuscato inched over to hide behind Mirowen.

“A young lady come all the way from Britain to speak to Lord Lucius,” March said.  As the woman came to the door, she took one look at Festuscato and shouted.

“Festuscato Cassius Agitus!”  That was enough to scold the boy.  “Take your sandals off and try not to touch anything.”

“I found him hiding up an orange tree and thought you might like to have him back,” Mirowen smiled.

The woman gave Mirowen the once over and apparently approved of her dress and deportment, sure signs of wealth and good breeding.  Then she spoke over Mirowen’s head, it being two steps up to the door. “You boys better go home.  I am sure your mothers will not be pleased.”

“Yes, mum. Thank you.  Mum.”  The boys spouted and ran off as quick as they could toward the tenant houses.

“You are from Britain?” The woman asked.

“Mirowen,” Mirowen gave her name and a slight curtsey which seemed the most graceful thing Festuscato had ever seen.  “My father, King Macreedy sent me with a troop for my protection, but we were set upon by Goths just outside of Rome.  I alone escaped.  What you see is all that is left of my small fortune, that and a word for Senator Agitus, though my letters are stolen and I cannot say what my father may have written.”

Festuscato closed his mouth.  The lie was masterful, and the woman, Festuscato’s mother, responded perfectly. “Oh my poor dear, do come in.”

“I found her all alone, crying.”  Festuscato said the truth, but Mirowen’s look urged him to be quiet and his mother snapped at him.

“You need to strip and get in the bath this instant,” she said, before she added in a very soft voice.  “Come and tell my husband all about it.  He spent many years in Britain in service to Rome.  I am sure we can arrange to help you out.”

Festuscato barely got clean and out to dry himself when Mirowen came in and announced she was his new governess.  “I told them my father sent me away for my safety and it might mean my life to return home.  On the other hand, I have a younger brother I have watched, my own mother being gone, and I would not mind watching you.”  She came to dry his hair and whispered.  “I am a house elf, you know.”

Festuscato nodded, but he would have to think about it.  He would never be able to sneak off again.  She would hear his every move.  Then again, there might be some advantages to having a house elf as a governess, not the least in the way she might be able to teach him to lie expertly.

Kairos Tales Preview

Beginning Monday, April 2, 2018

If you have read some of the Avalon stories that have appeared on this blog (available at your favorite e-book retailer), I thought it only fair that you get a look at several of the actual Kairos stories in their full form.  If you have not read any of the Avalon stories that have appeared on this website, that’s okay.  The stories here are self-contained with one exception:

The books (not presently available to buy) weave the partner stories like a fine tapestry.  For this blog, however, I have pulled the stories apart so you can read a whole Festuscato story, for example, without having to flip back and forth to Gerraint and Greta, or as the case may be, to Gerraint and Margueritte.  Hopefully, that will work well.  You can just ignore the rare references to what is happening in those other stories, knowing, that like the Kairos, you will get there, eventually.

This series of stories will begin posting on Monday, April 2, 2018, just in case you want to go into the archives and read from the beginning.  All weeks will have posts on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday = 3 individual, easily and quickly read posts per week to carry the story forward.  A good way to start the day.

 

Kairos

A Greek word meaning opportunity, the right time, a propitious moment, event time, or as the Kairos defines it, history.  It is the name the old titan Cronos gave to the polyploidy being he struggled to bring to life as a complete male and a complete female.  Knowing his time would soon be over, he imagined this complex “one being in two persons” would be his replacement.  When Cronos died at the hands of his children, the mere counting of days ended, and with the birth of the Kairos, history—event time began.

The Kairos might be called the god of history, though the Kairos prefers the term watcher over history, because unlike the gods of old, he or she is not immortal.  Instead, the Kairos normally lives as an ordinary mortal, male or female, sort of taking turns, and as such is subject to all the frailties of the species, while at the same time, being captured by the very events where he or she must inevitably act.

Not allowed to fully die, the being or spirit of the Kairos is taken at death and reborn somewhere else on the planet, where some important historical juncture looms on the horizon.  On bad days, the Kairos complains about being no more than a cosmic experiment in time and genetics.  On good days, the Kairos averts a disaster.

Taken out of the hands of the most ancient gods, and placed in the hands of persons unknown; it is her or his job to see that history turns out the way it has been written.  With access to future lifetimes, as well as past lives, the Kairos knows the way things are supposed to go.  But getting it to turn out right is not ever easy.  Fortunately, the Kairos is able to borrow lives from the past or future that often have the skills and knowledge to meet whatever might arise.  No guarantees, of course.

Stories

Kairos and Rome 5: Rome Too Far

R5) Festuscato: The Last Imperial Governor of Britannia.   9 weeks of posts

Festuscato Cassius Agitus is both a wealthy Roman senator and a cad.  Because of his indiscretions, the emperor’s mother has him sent to the abandoned province of Britannia to bring order out of chaos.  The people there appealed for help.  He can’t end the fighting.  Thus is the age.  But maybe he can bring the Gaelic people together long enough to face the real threats: Angles, Saxons, Jutes, Picts, Irish, and especially, the Huns.

R5) Greta: Over the River and Through the Woods.   23 weeks of posts

Greta, wise woman of Dacia under Roman rule, must go through the haunted, forbidden forest to reach the capitol in time to stop the rebellion.  The Masters buried some hundred-year-old rifles in that area, and Rome and all of history will be in danger if they are dug up; especially if they are discovered by the wicked witch.

R5) Gerraint: In the Days of Arthur, Pendragon.   10 weeks of posts

Gerraint, son of Erbin, with Percival and Arthur, romp through the early days of Arthur, Pendragon.  They fight off a rebellion and beat back the Saxons, Irish, Jutes and Picts, and rescue Gwynyvar.  Sadly, as the boys become men, the fighting never seems to stop.  And Meryddin, a fly in the ointment, appears to be on his own agenda.

Kairos and Rome 6: The Power of Persuasion

R6) Gerraint: Love and War   12 weeks of posts

Gerrain, son of Erbin wins Enid, his love before he is called to the continent to help Brittany stay free.  After a time of torment, Gerraint and Arthur continue to fight off Picts, Scots, Danes, and Angles, before the final battle of Mount Badon.  And still, Meryddin has his own agenda working, subversive in the background.

R6) Festuscato: The Dragon in Ireland   10 weeks of posts

Festuscato gets roped into providing safe passage for Patrick to get to Ireland.  Festuscato wants to see Patrick get started on a good foot, but that isn’t easy when the so-called king of the Irish is against you, not to mention the reluctant druids, the Irish pirates, and the Saxon intruders.  The boy and his pet dragon don’t help, either.

R6) Greta: To Grandfather’s House We Go   20 weeks of posts

Greta’s ward, Berry, and her sister Fae, along with Greta’s brother and Fae’s husband go north, looking for Berry and Fae’s father to bless their marriages.  They get trapped in the land of the lost, and the shattered pieces of the old god Mithras stand against Greta when she sets herself for a rescue mission.  Soon enough, the Iranian (Mithraic) tribes in the wilderness come to knock on Dacia’s door, which doesn’t have enough strength to stand against them.  And the Roman ranks are full of Mithraites.

Kairos Medieval 3: Light in the Dark Ages

M3) Festuscato: The Halls of Hrothgar   8 weeks of posts

After seeing to the safe withdrawal of troops from Britain, Festuscato, Senator of Rome, is shipwrecked on the Danish shore.  With his strange crew in tow, he finds his way to the halls of Hrothgar where a beast called the Grendal has come like a plague on the mighty.  Festuscato leaves nothing to chance.  He sends for Beowulf, but then he has to tread lightly to keep history on track.  He knows things will turn strange as the Grendal, the creature of Abraxas, cannot be harmed by any weapon forged by man.

M3) Gerraint: The Holy Graal   13 weeks of posts

Gerraint, son of Erbin feels his days of struggle should be behind him.  All he wants is to retire to Cornwall with Enid, his love.  But when ghostly hands carry a cauldron across the round table, he knows he has to act.  Arthur deftly turns all talk to the Holy Graal, but Gerraint knows he has to stop the older men from recovering the ancient treasures of the Celts and dredging up the past.  Christendom is only a thin veneer and if Abraxas is allowed to strip that away, history might be irrevocably changed.

M3) Margueritte: The Old Way Has Gone   18 weeks of posts

In the early days of Charles Martel, Margueritte experiences everything a Medieval girl might want: fairies, ogres, a unicorn, dragons, knights to love and daring rescues.  But it is Curdwallah the hag, the devotee of Abraxas, that haunts her dreams in the dark.

Kairos Medieval 4: Saving the West

M4) Festuscato: Senator of Rome   6 weeks of posts

After years of exploring Germania and the Eastern Roman Empire, Festuscato returns to the west, to Saxony and the land of the Franks.  There isn’t much time.  The Huns are moving.  Attila has his eye on the weakened western empire, and the Roman commander in the west, General Aetius, appears stuck in Rome, preoccupied with the Vandals in Africa.

M4) Gerraint: The Last Days of Arthur   6 weeks of posts

Lancelot has taken most of the young men to Brittany, and Greater Britain appears to be falling apart.  Arthur and Gerraint go to bring him back.  They make peace with the Franks, but Lancelot will not be moved.  Upon their return, they discover that Mordred has captured Cadbury and Gwynyvar with an army of Scots, Saxons, and traitors.  The stage is set for the last battle.

M4) Margueritte: The New Way Has Come   18 weeks of posts

The god Abraxass has moved the Muslim Sorcerer to keep Margueritte occupied so the Muslim army from Iberia can invade the north.  Margueritte has to help prepare Charles Martel for that inevitable time, and she must build heavy cavalry for the Franks, virtually from scratch.  What horrors will the sorcerer do to keep Margueritte out of the picture, and will she be too late to save the west?

************

A Brief Introduction

Hopefully, you are a rational and reasonable person in search of a good story, though not necessarily willing to break ranks with the relatively dead and sterile universe in which we presently and conceptually find ourselves.  And if you are not naturally given to flights of fantasy, you may be wondering how all this began.  Where did the idea for such a complex character come from?  If the Storyteller could be interviewed, the answer might be something as follows:

“I was sitting at my desk one day at work, staring out of the window, bored out of my mind, when I had a vision.  I think that was what it was.  At the time, I could not remember having had a vision before, but to be perfectly honest, that is the only word that fits the experience.  Anyway, without warning, I found that instead of sitting at my desk, I sat cross-legged in the grass at the top of a ridge, clothed in odd, but very comfortable Roman style chain armor, and holding a sword across my lap.  The sword felt heavy, and appeared sharp, too.  It all felt weird, but the sword and armor, the grass and all was not the weirdest thing.  As I looked down at the sword in my lap, I saw some obstructions to my vision.  You see, I was a woman, a young, and beautiful woman, I knew that much, with long, light golden brown hair that looked to me almost blonde in the bright sunlight.  I backed away instantly and found myself at my desk.  It all seemed too strange for me.  Like most men, I had regular ideas about women, but being one of them was definitely not on the list.  After that I got to work.  That daydream, as I called it, was not something I wanted to think too hard about and certainly not something I wanted to dwell on.

“The very next day, I sat again at my desk, not entirely bored for a change, because I was considering a topic which I always found fascinating.  I wondered about the idea of the Trinity, and I could not figure out how God could be one God in three persons.  I was one me in one person, and I thought that was difficult enough, but then I heard a voice in my head that said, “No, you are one you in two persons.”

“What?”  I said that out loud, I think.  I looked around, but I seemed to be the only one in the office at the moment.  Everyone else went out to the field.

“Woah!”  I did say that out loud.

Now, please understand, when I said I heard a voice, I did not mean an actual, audible voice.  I meant it came as something in my mind, only it was not just me imagining a voice or thinking some thoughts to myself.  I knew the voice was somehow external, though I could not tell you exactly how I knew that.  Anyway, I said, “What do you mean, one me in two persons?”

“Male and female,” the voice said.  “It is how you were made to be, even if you are only living as one gender at a time, as far as your present consciousness is concerned.”

“Wait a minute.  Who are you?  And what do you mean one at a time?”

“Chronologically speaking, yours is the one hundred and twenty-first life you have lived.  And there are future lives you will live as well.”

“You’re mad.”  I responded, by which I meant, I’m mad.  I concluded that this boring rut of a job had finally driven me off the cliff.  Here I go, falling, over the edge, I thought.  Er, no…  I don’t like heights.  Then the voice sort of took over.

“It is time for you to learn these simple truths about yourself, your many lifetimes and your making, because soon you will begin to experience your other lifetimes.”

“What?  You mean like that woman in the suit?”  I managed to interject that much.

“You will experience far more than that.  And you will find in the course of these experiences that your lives have been lived in partnerships of two or more, but not necessarily in chronological order.  I know that may be confusing for you, especially when you experience future lifetimes; but you will do well if you simply take and record each experience as it comes.  It will all come together in the end.”

“Experience the future?  What?”

“It may be that only you and your partner with you will experience every lifetime, but that is because it is your job to record the events of your many lives.  The other lives you live call you the Storyteller.  But then, you have another job to do in all of those other lifetimes.”

“A-ha!”  I did not actually get the words in, but I thought it loud enough.  “The catch!”

“Your job is to watch over history and make sure it comes out the way it has already been written.”

“A-ha!”  I repeated, and remembered last Sunday’s hymn about God working His purposes out.  I wondered, why me?

“God is working His purposes out.”  The voice knew my thoughts.  “But as you well know, the work is always done through agents of some sort, and mostly human agents.  The Source even emptied himself at one point to take on human flesh in order to act on his own behalf.  Why should history be any different?”

I did not have a ready answer for that one.

“As you experience these other lives in partnership, you will find that still other lifetimes may temporarily break through the natural barriers of time and into the life you are currently experiencing.  Then you will have access to certain skills and knowledge.”

“Wait!”  I practically shouted.  “Why should other lives break through?  Why should I need access to skills?”

“Because there is no telling in advance what skill set or knowledge or other help you may need at a given moment.”

“What?  No telling?  Does that mean you don’t know or that you won’t tell me?”

The voice paused for a minute before it resumed speaking.  “You know full well that the universe is not the dead empty your current culture believes it to be.  The universe is full of great varieties of life.  There are powers and principalities in the universe, and some of those are ambivalent at best toward humanity and human history, and some may even want to change history to serve their own ends.  The universe is full of powers, and as you know, some of them are not very nice.”

I swallowed.  Trying to keep history on track sounded like dangerous work.  Of course, I had no idea at the time, and no frame of reference to understand just how dangerous it could get.  I did have one more question, though.  “Why me?”  I asked.  “I’m nothing special.  In fact, I would say just the opposite.  I have not exactly lived a sin free life, and more importantly, I have just about failed at everything I have ever tried to do.  I am so ordinary in that sense, it even boggles my own mind.  And besides that, I am not a great writer.  Oh, I can tell a story all right, but my writing is rather pedestrian.  Again, it is just so ordinary, you might say.   So, why me?”  I asked, but the voice did not answer. It had gone, and after a while, I decided that maybe the fact that I was so ordinary was precisely why I was chosen.  I understood that someone who already had an inflamed ego and sense of their own importance and abilities would not have been a good choice.  No, not at all.

To be sure, that very night I did begin to remember some early childhood snapshots, as I called them.  Some came from my own life, and some came from the life of the Princes who was, and apparently is, my partner in this lifetime.  She is my time access partner, which is a bit like time travel and connects me to this keeping history on track thing that I am experiencing and remembering.  After that night, things just got stranger and stranger.”

Author’s Note:

I have done my best to keep to the record of the Storyteller as written, only trying hard not to let the facts stand in the way of a good story.  For that matter, some of the facts, like names, dates, exact locations and so on have been fudged a little to protect the innocent, in some cases, but more often because it would not be good to give the Masters, or any other enemies of history an exact roadmap of the activities of the Kairos.  Basically, don’t send me any letters saying such-and-such is historically inaccurate.  It won’t do you any good.

Happy Reading

*

Avalon 5.12 Bad Wine, part 5 of 5

The travelers got hauled in front of Solomon, no matter how much they insisted that they needed to see Korah.  They tied their horses out front, and armed up, just in case.  They left the Patton sabers wrapped at the back of their saddles, but they brought their gun belts, and Decker and Katie carried their rifles while Lockhart shouldered his shotgun.  Lockhart figured the locals might not even recognize the guns as weapons, though they said nothing about the knives the travelers carried on thier belts.

“Remember what the Kairos told us last time.”  Alexis spoke to everyone before they entered the audience chamber, and she focused especially on Lincoln and Katie.  “It would have been better to avoid seeing Solomon, but for Pete’s sake, keep you mouths shut.”  She shot the last at her husband who raised his hands in surrender.

The room looked overly large.  Solomon sat at the far end, in a comfortable looking chair, on a raised platform.  The travelers were used to that.  The unusual part was how many, mostly less comfortble chairs, sat up on the platform with him.  Most were empty, but a few were filled with what looked like advisors of a sort—or possibly close, personal friends, not one of whom looked under sixty.  To Solomon’s left hand, one chair got filled with a young girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen, and an Egyptian from her look.

The travelers looked around as they marched up front.  The guards and soldiers were inconspicuous.  Decker, Katie and Lockhart certainly noticed, and Decker probably counted them, but the others paid no attention, which was likely the idea.

Alexis saw one woman, an African looking woman, but with European features, which felt odd.  In fact, Alexis had an odd feeling overall, just to look at her.  The woman did not go about some duties.  She certainly scrutinized them with a knowing look, but Alexis had to move on before she could explore her feeling further, and when they reached the front, she forgot about the odd woman.

The travelers stopped several yards from the platform, and when Solomon waved his hand back and forth, they took the hint and spread out into a single line.

Solomon scrutinized the travelers, and spoke when he was ready.  “You are?”

“Robert and Katherine Lockhart.  Benjamin and Alexis Lincoln.  Elder Stow and his daughter, Sukki.  Mary Riley, that everyone call Boston, and Major Decker.  I assume you are Solomon, the Wise.  It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Solomon let out a slight grin.  “Some think not so wise, including sometimes your friend, Korah, who has been sent for.”  He stared at them again before he asked, “And where are you from?”

Lockhart looked at Katie, Lincoln and Alexis.  He figured if Solomon was half as wise as his reputation, he would see right through any lie he came up with.  So much for Alexis’ admonitiion, he thought, before he turned again to Solomon and answered, “The future.  And we are headed back there, slowly.”

Solomon smiled again.  “We are all headed slowly into the future.”

“But some more slowly than others.  And no, we cannot tell you about the future, and I probably should not have told you that much.”

“Sukki was born before the flood,” Boston blurted out.  “She is not technically from the future.”

The little Egyptian girl huffed.  “Suliman.  These people are boring.  Telling a strange tale that makes no sense does not make them less boring.”  Solomon looked at her, but let her ramble as she turned to the travelers.  “You see, in my hands I have Sekhmet, the lion, who is the real goddess.  I have seen her outside my window on the hot days when she has come into the shade of the wall.  She is my protector, and if you lie about things, and say you are from some imaginary place called the future, she will eat you.”

“She would not do that,” Kaie said.

The Egyptian girl huffed again, and spouted, “What do you know of the real gods?  How can you say that?”

“Sekhmet is our daughter,” Lockhart said, and with a glance at Solomon, added, “adopted, though I believe she adopted us as much as we adopted her.”

“We last saw her when we married,” Katie said, and took Lockhart’s hand.  “That was when the Philistines came from the sea and conqured the land you call Philistia.”

Solomon tipped his head, like he understood something.  “Both my father and King Saul before him struggled mightily to keep the Philistines from overrunning the whole country, and to make a lasting peace.”

“We could call her,” Lockhart suggested.

“But I am sure she won’t come here,” Katie interrupted.  “This place is given to worship the Most-High God—the God of the gods.  The old gods of this world have no place here.”

The Egyptian girl frowned.  “Liars.”

“I don’t think so,” Solomon responded.  “Even if they are not telling the whole truth.”  He scrutinized them once more before he said, “You should not hide yourselves behind such masks.”  He seemed to indicate Boston and Elder Stow, beside Sukki.

Boston looked briefly at Lockhart and Alexis before she removed her glamour of humanity.  The Egyptian girl shrieked and covered her eyes with her hands.  Elder stow looked only at Sukki and nodded.  They removed their glamours as well.  Even Solomon looked shocked at their appearance.

“We are of the elder race that once roamed these very lands,” Elder Stow said.

“Do not be afraid,” Alexis said.  “They are very nice people.”

“We all are,” Lincoln added.

“I am sure this is so,” Solomon said, as he watched the Egyptian girl slowly uncover her eyes, to stare.  “And you are traveling back to the future at a slighly faster rate?”

“Sorry,” Lockhart said, with a smile.  “Still can’t tell you about the future.”

“And you didn’t even say Back to the Future,” Katie said, and squeezed Lockhart’s hand.

“Lockhart,” a man’s voice sounded out from the back corner of the room.  “Have you been telling stories?”  The old man paused while he hobbled into the room, leaning heavily on a cane.  “Boston,” he said, and opened his arms for a hug.  Boston only glanced at Lockhart and Alexis before she raced into the hug.  Everyone smiled, except Lincoln, who asked.

“Korah?”

“Yes,” Solomon said, and he tried not to smile.  “And we haven’t had any stories yet.”

Boston whispered in Korah’s ear.  “You are old again.”

“Every lifetime,” he said, and leaned on her.

“We might tell something from the past,” Katie suggested.

“Like our encounter with Apophis,” Lincoln said.

The Egyptian girl shrieked.  “Please, no,” she said, and covered her eyes with her hands.

Solomon sat up and stroked the girl’s hair, like a doting grandfather, or maybe like a man might pet a faithful dog.  He asked a question while he pretended to be unconcerned.  “So, tell me about this black cloud that chased you into the city so you could not wait for the gate to be opened.  Why did you jump into the pool of Siloam?  Why is it waiting for you, even now, just outside the gate?”

The travelers hesitated, so the Kairos spoke up, now that Boston had helped him get to where he could sit down.  “Go ahead.  Tell us about the djin—the genie.”  He added that word for the men sitting there.

“My wife better explain,” Lockhart said, and he smiled at Katie while he slipped his arm around her.

Katie returned the smile and began.  She told how they entered the time zone, and the djin tried to kill them with the sandstorm. They made it to the city, only to find Ashtaroth, who threatened to sacrifice them in the altar to Moloch.  Boston called to Moloch, and he sent the djin somewhere unknown, and after seeing that they were hedged about by the gods, he sent them to the other side of the Jordan River.  “We set out this morning, after very little sleep, and even so, we almost did not make it to Jerusalem.  We fell into the pool from exhaustion and thirst, after all that time in the heat and desert sands.”

“A djin?” Solomon confirmed.

“A marid,” Korah said.

“Oh, but that is easy,” Solomon responded.  “I have some rejuvination juice right here.”  He stood, slowly for an older man, and picked up a clay jar with a lid that was not exactly like a cork, but near enough.  He lifted the lid, took a sip, and then called to the Egyptian girl.  He leaned on her as he walked, even as Korah continued to lean on Boston.  He took them all to a door that lead out to a balcony right next to the wall.  The cloud floated there, and Solomon called to it.

“Marid, I am Solomon.  I am king of this city and all the land you can see around you.  I have many Marid who are friends in my court.  I wish you no ill will, and I tell you, no harm will come to you here, as long as you do no harm in this place.  Here.  I have rejuvanation juice to toast your health and life.  Come join me in the toast.”

The cloud wavered, but did nothing.

“Come. this will strengthen you after your long hunt.  I drink some every day, but only a little so I don’t become too powerful.  This is stong drink.  You know, I have seven-hundred wives, and three-hudred concubines, and you can imagine at my age how much I need rejuvination.  Even so, all I need is a little of this magic elixir.  They say it can fully restore a person and all of his abilities—even magical abilities, though I have no such talents.

The cloud still appeared to hesitate.

“I see.  You fear the drink may be poison or something.  Here, let me show you.” He took a small sip, waited a moment, and hauled the Egyptian girl to his chest and kissed her, hard.  All the while he held out the jar.  “I am a bull now, ready to mate.  But first I drink to frendship with all the djin.  Will you try some, of course just a little.  No telling how strong you may become if you were to drink it all, or something so foolish…”

The black cloud rushed in, creating a wind it came so fast.  It squeezed itself down into the jug without so much as taking human form.  Solomon put the lid on top and smiled.

“That should keep it.”

A man stepped up with wax and a flame, like he rushed to get them as soon as the king stood.  He melted wax all over the top of the jug and all along the edge of the lid, effectively sealing it tight.  Solomon took off his ring, and while the servant held the jug, he made an imprint of his ring in the top.

“So we don’t forget which jugs have the djin, and which have the fresh wine,” Solomon said.  “That wine had a poor aftertaste, anyway…”  He let the Egyptian girl help him back to his throne.

“We can make love now?” the girl asked.

“Maybe later,” Solomon smiled for her as well as he could.  “Later, if I can stay awake.”

“That’s it?” Lincoln asked.

Korah nodded.  “As long as no one is stupid enough to break the seal, the djin should be held indefinitely.  Even if the seal is broken at some point, the djin will have to return fully to the desert world made for the genies, and heal, before he can do anything else.  And even the powerful and mighty marid cannot return to earth without help from someone on earth, so I would say, yes, that is it.  I do not expect it will be able to bother you any more.”

“But, that is it?” Lincoln asked again.  “But that was so easy—so nothing.”

“Yes,” Korah said, and paused to think.  “You feel let down after all that build up?  You wanted a magical duel, buildings blowing up, sparkas flying everywhere, that sort of thing?”

Lincoln nodded as Alexis answered.  “All I feel is relief.”

“Tell you what,” Korah said.  “Come to my place.  You can eat and rest for a time.  Ignore the boys.  They have the first garage band in history, but at least it is not electric.”

“You don’t want us to move on right away?” Boston asked.

“Lockhart?” Korah looked for him.  He saw him and Katie, still out on the balcony, kissing.

“Still newlyweds,” Elder Stow explained.

Korah nodded.  Solomon spoke.  “You owe me a good story, or two.”

Korah said, “No reason you should not take the chance to rest a bit.  The twenty-first century is still a long way from here.  The gnomes have your horses.  Eat, rest and relax for a bit before you return to the road and your journey… Back to the Future…”

“You said it,” Decker did not sound pleased.

“I know.  If I’m not careful, I’ll get hit with a cease and desist order.  Good luck finding me a thousand years before Christ.”

END of Season Five.

************************

Special preview post tomorrow.

Please stop by, and Happy Reading

*

Avalon 5.12 Bad Wine, part 4 of 5

The travelers found themselves in a pleasant grove of trees beside a river.  The horses all appeared unharmed.  They also appeared to have their equipment.

“My guess is the Jordan River,” Lincoln said.  “It was the way we were headed.”

“Good guess,” Boston said as she checked her amulet.  “We are about a day from where the Kairos appears to be.  We got a whole lot closer without having to move ourselves.”

“Any idea where the djin might be?” Lockhart asked.  Everyone shook their heads, including Boston, who spoke.

“The amulet doesn’t show the djin.”

“The other side of the Jordan River,” Alexis said, and sighed her relief.  Everyone got it.  When Moloch threatened to send them over to the other side, the way the gods talk about the other side of death, he did not mean to kill them.

“We need to find the Kairos as soon as we can,” Lincoln said.  “Hopefully before the djin finds us.”

“Agreed,” Lockhart said.  “But we need to rest, and heal, and so do the horses.  We take eight hours.  Two for each pair on watch.”

“I could put the screens back up, just in case,” Elder Stow suggested.

“No,” Lockhart said.  “The djin might more easily find us that way.”

“I don’t suppose we could stay long enough to hunt,” Decker asked.

“Bread crackers,” Katie said, with a shake of her head.  “Be glad it is not cold.  I don’t think even a fire would be wise.”

Decker did not argue.  He was military, and knew better than most the trouble any delay might cause.  Tents were teken back from the horses and went up.  Horses got some extra care, then Lockhart started the eight-hour watch.  He knew they would be sleeping after the sun rose, but not for long after.

###

“Still no sign of the djin?” Lockhart asked, as he tried to wake up.

“No.  Nothing,” Boston answered.  “It has been quiet since Sukki and I got up to watch.”

“The sun is well up,” Katie said, as she checked her saddle.  “We still have time to get to where the Kairos is?”  Boston nodded.

“And we go around Jericho,” Lockhart said.  He underlined that for Lincoln.

“We have not been there since that first time, way early in our journey,” Lincoln said.  “I am curious to see how it has changed, that’s all.”

“It is where I joined the others,” Elder Stow explained for Sukki, who nodded, but held her tongue, as usual.

“We ready?” Decker asked.  The others mounted, and they set off through the wilderness.

The travelers found a village and a well-worn path to Jericho.  They asked the way to Jerusalem, and got shown the cut-off that went around the outside of the city and pointed straight at the capital.  Soon, they picked up a better path, almost a road between Jericho and Jerusalem, and they made very good time.

“Much better than the first time we came through here,” Lockhart said, when they paused to walk the horses, to rest them.  “Back then, Old Salem was ruled by the Kairos whats-his-name as an independant city.”

“Yadinel,” Katie told him.  “The Elohim people lived there, but the Jebusites were on the verge of overrunning the city.”

“Now, David might be king,” Lincoln spoke up from behind, his nose in the database.  “But I suspect we will deal with Solomon.  It says here that Nathan was the student of Samuel, and Korah was the student of Nathan.  Korah has two students, Shemaiah and Ahijah.”

“Elijah?” Boston asked from behind Lincoln.

“Ahijah,” Lincoln corrected her.  “Elijah comes further down on the list.”

“So, Korah is a prophet?” Lockhart wanted to get it straight.

“No, technically, he is a musician.  So was Nathan.  Apparently, with some other Korahites, not named after the Kairos, Korah… they composed and play most of the temple music that made the Psalms into songs.”

“Korahites?” Alexis asked.

“Yes…” Lincoln paused to read before he spoke.  “They are levites, the ones who specifically carried all the sacred items all those years in the wilderness, including…” he paused to read.  “Including the Arc of the Covenant.”

“So, now that there is a temple, he has turned to music?” Katie said, like a question.

“So, what do we call him?” Lockhart asked.

“Can’t be Elvis,” Boston spoke up.  “Because we aren’t in Memphis… Egypt.”

“Rabbi, I think,” Lincoln said, and read some more.

“There were Rabbi’s this far back in history?” Boston asked.

“No, I don’t think it’s that kind of Rabbi,” Alexis said.

“Rabbi just means teacher,” Katie shouted back as Lockhart stopped the column.

“Mount up,” he said.  “We have really pushed our luck.  We need to get to Jerusalem, and whatever the Kairos, Korah is doing, I hope he can help us with the djin.”

“I hope we get there before the djin finds us,” Lincoln agreed.

###

“I see the gate,” Boston shouted from the back.  At four in the afternoon, they would easily get there before dark.  Even with that encouragement, everyone dragged toward the gate.  They, and their horses, were exhausted from a whole day of fighting the wind and sand, and then getting very little sleep in the night, and then riding all day without a stop.  They dared not stop for lunch.  They all felt hungry, sick of plain bread crackers.  Mostly, they sweated and were thirsty.  The idea of food and water, and maybe rest kept them going, but they had no speed in them.  That changed when Sukki shouted from the rear.

“I see a black cloud following us.  It looks like it is catching up.”

Everyone looked.  Lockhart shouted, “Ride.”

The road they were on seemed better than most they had seen.  Even so, they probably rode faster than it was prudent.  The wind began to pick up around them and blow dust into their faces, but Alexis pulled out her wand, and the wind detoured around them.  She did not have the power to counter the djin, but she could divert the wind.

Fire came up from the ground, like a living thing.  It shot at them, but Boston had her wand out already.  She could not delete the fire, but she could cause it to bend away from them long enough to pass by.

Decker and Elder Stow came in from the wings to cover the rear.  As the cloud came closer, lighting began to shoot out and explode on the ground where it hit.  The lighting tried to hit them, but Elder Stow had prepared his screens in advance for just this possibility.  He flipped the switch, and the lightning struck the wall of screens he made come up behind them.  It struck the screen and dissipated.  Otherwise, the djin had to fire his lightining too far in front of the group, or too far to either side to be effective.

The travelers galloped flat out where they could, and near that speed in every other place.  They looked like they might make it, but Boston shouted, and made herself heard, as elves can.

“The gate is closed.”

Elder Stow touched something on his screen device and sprinted his horse to the front.  They all understood if they stopped to ask permission to enter the city, the djin would catch them.  Elder stow did not ask permission, or even think clearly of the consequences.  Somehow, they all imagined if they got inside the city they would be safe.  Elder Stow pulled his weapon, adjusted the setting on the run, and fired.  Whatever small part of the door around the edges that did not vanish, exploded and caught fire.

The travelers raced into the city, and the soldiers and watchers in the gate dared not stop them.  Dead ahead, they saw a pool of water.  They rode into it, and after a moment, they got down into the water.  It felt glorious.

They all looked, of course, and noticed that the cloud of the djin stopped outside the city.  It almost seemed as if the wall kept him out.  It made no sense, that a wall could stop a cloud that could easily fly over top.  But something kept the djin out.

As the travelers, and their horses reveled in the water, the guards in the gate pulled themselves together.  After only a minute or so, the soldiers came.

Avalon 5.12 Bad Wine, part 3 of 5

The travelers were not disappointed with the tantrum.  The ground began to shake, which Elder Stow said had to be below the screen.  He reminded them the screens formed a globe and projected below the ground as much as above the ground.  The travelers watched as the desert cracked.  Steam shot up from several cracks, like wild geysers.  Flame came up from others.  The Tornado slammed into the screens.  The whole landscape turned from the desert, to an image of Hell.

Boston saw one of the streams of fire waver, and curiosity made her go invisible.  She saw a big, vulture-like bird had fallen to the ground.  It smoked, like it had been burned, and it took a moment to get Alexis’ attention well enough to explain what she could see in the dark, lit up by the light of the flames.

“Of course,” Alexis said.  “It isn’t just us stuck between two worlds.  The whole area around us is shifted, like the real world and the sand world are being overlapped in our location.  We are mostly insubstantial to the real world, and the real world is mostly unsubstantial to us, but not entirely so.  We pass through the real world and the real world through us, but not entirely so.  We have substantial shadows, we might say.”

“Uh-huh,” Boston said, but it would take her some time thinking about it before she understood what Alexis understood.

The ground began to rise, beneath their feet, and while the rest of the people, and the horses, began to panic, Elder Stow smiled.

“Something like rock must be pushing us up from underneath,” Lincoln said.

“The ground won’t stay still,” Sukki complained.

“Why are you smiling?” Boston returned to visibility and asked Elder Stow. He played with the screens, and slowly let sand fall out of the screens from beneath the traveler’s feet as they rose.  The travelers began to sink in the globe or protection.  Elder Stow began to float so he, and his scanner and equipment, stayed in the center of the screen globe, even as the bottom half of the globe got pushed out of the ground from underneath.  Elder Stow left enough sand in the bottom part of the globe for the travelers and the horses to stand upon, but soon enough he floated well over their heads.  He seemed to know exactly when the screen globe broke free of the sand, and he moved without warning.

They flew.

The travelers, the horses, the sand beneath their feet, and Elder Stow overhead.  The whole screen globe flew toward the city, and the djin appeared stymied, like this was an option he had not considered.

“My little flotation device is not designed for all this weight,” Elder Stow shouted down.  “It may give out after a short way.  I do not know how we may hit the earth.  I hope we don’t roll.  I hope the horses are not damaged, or worse, roll on top of you and damage you, but for now, we might as well take advantage of the djin’s mistake.”

“He is flying,” Sukki gasped.

“It is how he got around at first, when he followed us,” Boston told her.  “He went invisible and flew after us.  Nothing we could do about that, until he decided of his own free will, that it was safer and better to join us on the journey, since we were headed in the same direction he was headed.”

They did not fly fast, but some time passed before the djin figured out to raise the wind and sand again and try to blow them back.  Too late.  They reached the city, and Elder Stow just had to figure out how to set them down, safely.  He found a market square, deserted in the night, but big enough if he trimmed the size of the screens.  He went for it, though it took some fast and delicate manipulation of the screen and floatation controlers.

As the screens sank back into the sand, and Elder Stow returned to set his feet again, on the ground with the travelers and the horses, he flipped the invisibility disc back on to show them where they were in relation to the town.  He imagined it was a market.  Katie knew better.

“We must be in Rabbah, and this is the temple complex.”  Katie pointed toward the three-story tall bronze looking statue of a man with a bull head which took up one whole side of the square.  “That is the altar of Moloch.  He eats the sacrifice of human children.”

“Ashtaroth land,” Lincoln read, before he explained the Sukki.  “The one with the basilisk, who ate your entire expedition.”

“No,” Sukki whispered, and hid her face in her hands.  Boston and Alexis comforted her, while Lockhart kept Katie from getting closer, to examine the altar.

Something swirled in the square.  It became a little tornado before it began to form, outside the screen.  The travelers feared the djin, but it turned out to be a woman.  She came dressed in a plain, pull-over dress that fell around her like a shapeless tent.  She did not appear a bad looking woman, though it would have stretched the truth to call her pretty.  Mostly, she looked haggard, or cruel, or broken in some way; and angry, which did nothing for her looks—that, and the two big horns, like bull’s horns, that grew out or her forehead.  Still, she looked human-like despite the horns, but from the way the travelers trembled, they knew she had to be the goddess.

“Let me see you,” she demanded, and Elder Stow wisely turned off his screens.  It seemed better than her breaking them. The woman squinted, growled, and waved her hands.  The travelers felt themselves drawn back into the real world.  The only thing missing was the thump! when they landed.  They watched as Ashteroth grinned a wicked grin.  “The two ancient ones from the before time,” she said.  “And six ohers that do not belong here.  How nice.  What fun we will have.”  She looked up at the black cloud that appeared to hover in the sky and defy the wind.  No one had to guess who that black cloud represented.  “I might even let you live for bringing them to me,” she spoke to the sky.

“Who should we call?” Lockhart whispered.

Katie shook her head.  “In this place, only Moloch, her husband.”  Katie pointed at the altar, the big, bronze bull-headed man.

“Yes,” Ashtaroth said.  “And my husband will be very pleased with your sacrifices.  We have seven chambers in image.  We will cook you, and eat you, and I will relish your spirits.  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…” she stopped when she pointed at Boston.

“Eight,” Boston prompted, in case the goddess forgot what came next.

Ashtaroth shrugged.  “I have no need for a spirit one.”

“Moloch,” Boston called.  “Moloch…”

“No,” Ashtaroth said, but it was too late.  The god appeared, eight feet tall, muscular, naked, bull head and all.

“You have trespassed on my place,” he said.  “I claim your children.”

“We have no children,” Katie responded.

The bull head looked up at the black cloud and yelled.  “I said no.”  He clenched his fist and the cloud disappeared, leaving a night sky full of stars.  “I claim you,” he said, and Ashtaroth smiled.

“We are hedged by the gods,” Boston said.  “By Enlil, Enki, Marduk, Ishtar, Hebat, Arinna, Hannahannah and Astarte.”

Katie found courage in the names and added to the list.  “By Odin, Zeus, Amon Ra, Tien Shang-Di, by Ameratsu, Leto, Artemis, Apollo and Ares.”

“By Hathor and Horus,” Boston continued.  “By Varuna and Brahma.”

“By Maya, and the Great Spirit over the sea.  By Poseidon, Feya, Bast and Anubis, Sekhmet and the Kairos, and many others.”

“Are you prepared to bring the wrath of the gods down upon you?” Boston asked.

“Harm us at the risk of your life,” Lockhart added.

“The gods will send you to the other side,” Lincoln said, using the words the gods used for death.

“You will be cast into the outer darkness,” Alexis added.

“Even into the lake of fire,” Boston said with a shiver, her head lowered that whole time.

Moloch did not appear to be a bright person.  He held his unclenched hand out to the travelers, like he felt for something.  He seemed to sense something.  He roared loud enough to shake the nearby buildings.  Then he spoke.

“You should not be here.  You should go to the other side.”

Moloch unclenched his fist even as Ashtaroth shouted, “No.”  The travelers vanished from that place.

************************

MONDAY

Go to the other side…of what?

Be sure to return for the second half of episode 5.12, and the end of Season Five

Until then… Happy Reading

*

Avalon 5.12 Bad Wine, part 2 of 5

The sandstorm kept up for several hours, but with a couple of hours to work, Elder Stow made something like a window, high up on the back side of the screens.  He even bent one section of the screen dome above the window so the sand slid off it, like rain off a roof, and did not come in the window.  Boston, the engineer, asked how he did that.  Elder Stow grinned his best Neanderthal grin and answered the question with a question.

“And how did your father Mingus make a window so only I could see you, though you remained invisible to the rest of the world?”

Boston, who had become visible right away, because staying invisible was too draining, wrinkled her nose as she spoke.  “That is very complicated magic,” she said.  Elder Stow nodded, but said no more.

“How long do you think he will keep this up?” Decker asked.  He chewed on some beef jerkey that had to be at least sixty-years-old after coming through the time gate.  He handed some to Sukki with a word.  “I don’t swallow it.  I just chew it for a while and spit it out.  I don’t have any gum or tobacco.”

Sukki understood.  She tried a piece for something to do, but she did not care for it much.  Gott-Druk, in general, were not big meat eaters.

After Elder Stow set the window, and made sure the screens were functioning properly, he joined the others and had a request for Boston.  “The sand appears to be covering the front end of the screens very nicely.  Boston, would you mind going invisible again and tell me what you see.”

“Okay,” she said, and it took a minute of concentration before they heard her voice.  “I see the field, the trees and the big rock, like no sandstorm ever happened.”

“Good,” Elder Stow responded, and he touched something on his belt and went invisible.  Sukki shrieked before she covered her mouth, and they heard Elder Stow’s voice.  “I see the same, trees, open field, and rocky hillside.”  Elder Stow became visible again, and Boston became visible a moment later.  “Now, let’s see what happens.”  He reattached the invsibility disc to the screens, and when he turned it on, everyone saw the native area.  Dog and Cortez let out sounds of surprise.  Misty Gray and Honey came up to stand beside Alexis and Boston.

“Question.” Lockhart spoke.  “Can you move us with the screen around us, like you did back in Althea’s day when the volcano went off?”

Elder Stow had to think about that.  “I can, but I would have to let solid items pass through the screen, like sand.  Perhaps we can move out from beneath the piled-up sand first before adjusting the screens for easier movement.”

“I don’t believe we have moved back into our world,” Alexis said.  “By becoming invisible, we have made the world visible, but in reality, I suspect we still have one foot in that other world.”

Lockhart understood, as well as he could understand.  Everyone mounted, and did their best to cover themselves and their horses against a blast of invisible sand.  They moved a small way, and could not move any further, like the sreens got stuck or caught on something immovable.

“Okay,” Lockhart said, and Elder Stow switched the screen settings, and they felt the wind, and the sting in the wind, though they did manage to get out from under the collapsing sand hill, which they could no longer see.

“We may have to take this bit by bit,” Katie shouted against the wind.

Lockhart nodded and started them in the direction they needed to go.  They got about a quarter mile before they had to stop and Elder Stow had to restore the screens to their previous condition.  He turned off the invisibility disc.

Everyone saw the sandstorm still raging, and Lincoln asked this time how long this could continue.

“A true duststorm can last from several minutes to several days,” Katie said, having dug up the relevant information from somewhere in her memory.  “It depends on a number of factors that I have no way of knowing right now.”

“Well, we have passed the few minutes part,” Lockhart said.  “We will see how long the djin keeps it up.”

“Hush,” Alexis told Lockhart.  “Let me see your eyes.”  She found some petroleum jelly in the medical kit and made them aply some to the insides of the nostrils, while she explained.  “This storm will dry you out worse than making your breathing heavy.  Your nose and mouth can dry.  We should keep the masks moist.  Your eyes can become dry enough to cause blindness, even permanent blindness. Best not to look up, and not into the wind at all.”

“We should probably cover our horse’s faces completely, and keep their face covering moist as well,” Lincon added.  He read in the database.

“Hey,” Boston got their attention.  “Why don’t we completely cover the horses with our tents, like we do in the snow, like medieval blankets, you know.”

Lockhart nodded and looked at Decker.  Decker appeared to be thinking, but in fact he was meditating and letting his eagle spirit haul him up above the screens to see what he could.  Sukki spoke up.

“Why are we heading straight into the wind?” she asked, innocently.  “Could we go to the side and go around the storm?”

“I imagine the djin wants to blast us head on,” Lockhart said.

Lincoln said, “Tacking,” and Alexis said, “A sailboat,” at almost the same time.

“We would be hit on the side,” Alexis explained.  “But we would not be hit in the face, and could better see where we are going.  With the blanket-covered horses, it would not be so bad.  And when the djin swings the storm to hit us in the face again, we swing to angle in the other direction, to be hit on the other side.”

“At a forty-five-degree angle, our forward motion would be about cut in half,” Lincoln said.  “But it should be more bearable.”

Elder Stow spoke.  “I have to assume the djin is subject to the same laws as anyone.  He can’t hit us from more than one direction at a time with wind and sand.”

“Keep the masks moist,” Alexis said.  “We brought plenty of water, so for a couple of days, if need be, should not be a problem.”

Decker came back and reported.  “The storm in about half-a-mile high and roughly half-a-mile in front, but from the way it dies instantly behind us, I would guess it is being artificially created.  I bet he can keep this up as long as there is sand.”

Lockhart stood.  “We are going to tack to the city, like a sailboat.  Get your tents and get the horses covered.”

###

The crew stopped for about the tenth time, well after dark.  Stopping proved no problem, but if they stopped for too long a period of time, the sand built up again against the screens, and then they had to backtrack before they could move forward again; and progress came painfully slow as it was.  People and horses got as much rest as they could, and they turned off all the lanterns but one to conserve power each time they stopped, but there was not much rest to be had.  Alexis checked people’s eyes and noses every time.  Boston and Katie took on the task of checking the horses.  It did not help matters when Boston said the horses should not go out again.  She said that the last two stops, but this time Katie agreed with her.

“Quite all right,” Elder Stow said.  “It appears our djin is tired of the game as well.”  He threw a switch on his scanner and the screens solidified, even as they had been at first.  He also turned off the invisibility disc so everyone could watch.  The storm ended, suddenly, and a tornado took its place.  It slammed into the screen, but it could not penetrate.  Elder Stow spoke calmly.

“Over our various stops, I tinkered with the scanner.  I managed to see what was going on in the desert world through or around the invisibility disc.  I expect a temper tantrum.”

Avalon 5.12 Bad Wine, part 1 of 5

After 999 BC Jerusalem.  Kairos 71: Korah, Musician and Prophet

Recording…

The travelers came prepared.  Too bad for the djin.  They took their blankets and their horse blankets and shaped them into water carriers, where the water would evaporate slowly over the next four days to a week, depending on how much of it they drank in that time.  They draped one carrier just behind their saddles where it would cool the horse’s rear, and the other, just in front of their saddles, where it would drape down and cool the horse’s neck.  They separated a piece of fairy weave from their clothes to make a mask for the horses to protect them from the sand.  They protected themselves with sold clothes where they could sweat, and masks and hats of their own.

“Tien said desert,” Alexis reminded everyone several times, before she finally asked, “Are we ready?”  Their canteens were full, and the horses had a long drink.

Katie looked at Lockhart before she nodded, and they left China behind.  They came out on a plain where they saw only sand for as far as they could see, and it felt like it would be a hundred degrees in the shade, if they ever found any shade.

“I don’t like it,” Katie said.  “It feels unnatural.”

“About what I expected,” Lokhart said, and with a glance at Katie, who checked her amulet and pointed, they started right out at a slow, walking pace.

“Looks like nothing but bread crackers for a while,” Lincoln said.  “Unless Decker or Elder Stow can find something.”

“How can we eat bread crackers without hot water to make the bread?” Sukki asked Boston.  Alexis heard and leaned back to answer.

“We may have to just eat the crackers.  Don’t worry. They won’t expand into full loaves of bread in your stomach, though they will fill you more than you would normally expect from crackers.”

“It will be fine,” Boston assured her.  “We have eaten the crackers before.”

“My mother.  My father,” Elder Stow interrupted and moved up beside Lockhart.  He had his scanner out and shook his head.  “I do not understand what I am seeing.  I am picking up a hot and dry land, but there are bushes and some trees.  I would guess olive and fig trees, among others.  I see a farm and a village that we should be able to see from here.”  He pointed off to their right.  “But my eyes see nothing.”

“Boston?” Lockhart shouted back, though Boston’s elf ears would have heard his whisper.

“Sorry, Boss,” Boston responded.  “All I see is sand.”  She got out her amulet, which offered more information about the location of cities and towns, and the general terrain than Katie’s prototype amulet.

“An illusion?” Alexis asked.

“Boss,” Boston raised her voice for Lockhart’s attention.  “I don’t see the village in the amulet, but we should reach a city by the end of the day, or a bit less.”

“We’ll look for it,” he said and turned to those around him.  “I want to keep Elder Stow with the main group to keep an eye on the terrain, in case we come to a cliff or something.  Katie, would you mind taking the wing with Decker?”

“Really?” Katie asked, and appeared to smile about it.  It could be dangerous by herself out on the wing, but previously, Robert would not let her get in a dangerous position.  It almost separated them at one point.  She thought, maybe he was growing, willing to let her be the elect she was.

“If you don’t mind,” Lockhart said.  “Lincoln needs to use the database to figure out where we are.  Alexis and Boston are trying to figure out how to pierce this illusion, or whatever it is.  Sukki is too new at all this, and not military trained, and as I said, Elder Stow needs to keep a watch on the terrain.”

“Oh.”  Katie lost a bit of her enthusiasm.  “So I am the only choice?”

“Not exactly,” Lockhart admitted.  “You have elect senses.  You might sense something that none of us can see.”

That helped.  Katie rode off to one side, and Decker rode off to the other.  Lockhart watched them to make sure they did not disappear in the sand.  Then he spoke into his wrist communcator.  “Testing, testing.  Don’t get out of range in case we need to pull you back quickly.”

“Roger.”

“Yes, Dear.”

Lincoln looked at Lockhart, who turned slightly red but did not turn his head.  Lincoln kindly changed the subject as he pulled out the database.  “I would guess our equipment has been taken out of the djin’s hands.  He had to teach the men in Sinon’s day to fire the weapons, and Elder Stow’s radiation detector still worked.”

“Zoe took away his ability to control our minds, way back when,” Lockhart responded.

“Looks like he still figured out a way to control our senses, though.” Lincoln said and turned to read.

“This way,” Elder Stow said.

“Why?” Lockhart asked.

“Trees.  A grove,” Elder Stow replied.

Lockhart shook his head.  “I don’t see them.  Let’s see if they are there.”  He kept them moving straight ahead.

Elder Stow grunted, raised his eyebrows and grunted again before he spoke.  “You…We appear to have walked right through them.”

“That doesn’t mean if we come to a cliff or crevasse we won’t fall off or fall in,” Lockhart said and turned his head.  “Alexis.”

“We seem to be partly out of sync with the environment,” Alexis responded.  “Like we have one foot in another world.  Boston.”  Boston looked at her.  “Try to go invisible.”

Boston had to concentrate, but she eventually succeeded, and though they did not see her, just Honey, her horse, plodding along in the heat, they heard her well enough.  “I’m in regular land,” she said, and everyone knew what she meant.

Sukki had a question, after she got over her shock of seeing Boston disappear.  “Is it as hot there?  I’m melting.”

“Still hot, but not as bad,” Boston said.

“The benefits of a green environment,” Alexis said.

“Elder Stow.  Want to try it?” Lockhart asked.  Elder Stow had a disc with which he could simulate invisibility.

“Wait until we stop for lunch,” he said.  “It is still tied to the screen device.”

Lincoln looked up.  “Hey, I was wondering.  Can your screens cut the glare of the sun, like sunglasses—or those glasses that darken out in the sun.”

“Like shade,” Alexis said.

Elder Stow looked up and thought about it.  “I believe so, but I may need to take extra time at lunch to work on the program.”

“Sandstorm.”  Katie’s word came from every wrist communicator.  Lockhart looked up and saw Decker, and then Katie riding hard.  Behind them, he saw a wall, like a giant cloud pursuing them.

“No time like the present,” Lincoln said.

“Over here,” Boston spoke.  “Follow Honey.”  Honey wandered to a spot that looked, to the others, no different than anywhere else.  But they followed, and Decker and Katie angled in to join them.  Elder Stow got down and worked feverishly on his scanner and screen device.

“Why here?” Lockhart asked to Boston’s horse.  He heard an answer over his head.

“We are behind a hill and great rock outcropping.  I can kind of see the desert, if I concentrate, and I don’t know if the natural barrier will help, but I thought it was worth a try.”

“Everyone, get out your tents,” Lockhart shouted.  “See if it will expand enough to cover yourself and your horse.”

“Wait, wait,” Elder Stow said, and he judged where Katie and Decker rode in the distance.  He hit a button with a word, “Now.”  Suddenly, the sound of the wind that they hardly noticed cut off.  Elder Stow continued.  “I made the screens as big as I could and still keep out the sand and dust.”

“Why make it so big?” Sukki wondered.

“Because, I would not put it past the djin to try and bury us in sand, at which point the only air we will have to breathe will be the air inside the screens, until we dig ourselves out.”

“Well, if he buries us, it should cut the glare from the sun,” Lockhart said.

“And bake us, like in an oven,” Alexis responded.

“Cheery thought,” Decker said, as he dismounted.

Katie got down to stand beside Lockhart as they watched the sand strike and begin to build a wall of sand on the outside of the screen dome.

Avalon 5.11 The River Circus, part 6 of 6

Gongming, Aunt Chen, Wang and Bi all stood by the railing, ignored the three bound soldiers, and watched the river water rise in the shape of a bridge that spanned the whole river.  They watched by the moonlight as sand and mud came up from the deeps to color the bridge, until it looked like an earthen bridge, or perhaps a stone bridge.  It was hard to tell in the dark, but in any case, it looked solid enough.

They watched as the travelers doused their lantern lights and stepped out on that bridge, leading their horses by the reins, and stepping carefully, but trusting.  They got about half-way and stopped.  They waited.  Hardly a minute, and the people heard a strange roar on the shore.  Baby became agitated, but Feyan had her.  Bi had put her collar on down below, and he held her leash.

Another minute and the pack arrived.  They howled and roared, and made all sorts of odd squealing sounds before they ventured out on to the bridge.  They went slowly and carefully, like they suspected something.  They did not charge their prey as they would have on solid ground.  All the same, they went, only they did not wait for the rear guard to catch up first.

“They do not swim,” Feyan said in her anxious voice.  “They have a very heavy specific gravity, and sink like a stone in deep water, and they drown.  It is one of the surest ways to kill them.”  Feyan sounded nervous, and it translated to nervousness in the tiger, who turned her head several times to growl at the soldiers.

Out on the bridge, Katie and Decker got to their knees and readied their rifles.  Lockhart cradled his shotgun.  Elder Stow had his energy weapon in hand and Alexis and Boston had their wands.  Lincoln and Sukki only needed to keep the horses back, over the hump of the bridge where they could not see the night creatures, though they could certainly hear them.

The night creatures got close before one howled, and they charged.  A water sprite stuck his head up from the bridge and yelled, “Hold your fire,” and the travelers trusted, but got very nervous.  At the last second, the creature-half of the bridge gave way.  Four fell to the water.  A fifth one leapt and clawed at Decker’s feet, but the water bridge, despite its solid look, gave nothing for the creature to grab.  It fell with the rest, and sank quickly under the waves.

The travelers turned from the scene, and only Boston thought to wave, though she imagined no one could see at that distance in the dark.  Katie stated the obvious.

“There is probably a rear guard out there, still on our tail.”

“We will have to watch out for that,” Lockhart said.

“It is the djin I am worried about,” Lincoln admitted.  “He may be diminished, as he says, but he set off a volcano, and sent night creatures after us.  What’s next?”

People quieted.  None could think of what they could do about the djin.  They reached the other side, and Sukki asked if they could stop.  Somehow, camping by the river that had been so friendly to them seemed a good choice.

They watched the bridge collapse and said thank you and good-bye to Wei We.  Boston thought to say thank you to the water sprites.  A five-foot wave passed them by, followed by any number of little water spouts.

“That means you’re welcome,” Boston lied with ease, not knowing what it actually meant, or even if it meant anything at all.

The travelers backed up, off the riverbank, and found a clear area where they could pitch their tents and the horses could graze.

Boston got a fire going, and Alexis got some food cooking.  Katie got out the grain the kind farmer insisted they take, so the horses got a treat as well, after being so loyal and riding so hard.

Elder Stow got out his scanning device and explained for the others.  “It occurred to me, there is no way to seriously screen out a night creature being helped by the gods.  It might confound the god for a bit, but not prevent the god in the long term.  But there is no reason why we can’t be warned.  I have scanned all the particulars concerning the creatures.  If one should approach us, the alarm should go off.”

“Annoying alarm, you mean,” Decker said.

Elder Stow nodded and grinned.

###

Back across the river, a young woman stepped up to the riverbank to look at the travelers.  Some arcane power crackled between her fingertips, and her eyes easily pierced the darkness and the distance.  Ordinarily, no one would give such a young woman a second glance, but in her case, she stood out, an oddity in that part of the world.  She had European-like features, and her skin was darker than anyone would expect to find in Asia.  She did not appear Indian, but perhaps Arabic or North African.  For the present, though, she simply watched.

###

Aboard the ship, Feyan got Gongming’s whip stick without a word.  She handed it to the man and knelt, with a deep sigh, awaiting her punishment.  Gongming did appear to consider it, but asked instead for Feyan to explain herself.

“I kept secrets from you and from the family, and I promised never to do that.  I am sorry.”

Gongming tugged on his beard before he reached down to help Feyan stand.  “Some secrets are best not kept, but some secrets are nobody else’s business,” he said.

“Fortune cookie?” Bi asked.  Feyan made a face, like she was not sure about that one.

“Hmm,” Gongming hung the whip-stick back up.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” a young man said, as he appeared out of nowhere.  “The famous fortune man, Zhou Gongming.  A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”  He shook Gongming’s hand and moved on before the man could frame a thought.  “And this is Chen, your lovely wife.”  He kissed her cheeks like a long-lost relative.  “Always remembering the gods, and being so good to take in your poor niece, like she was your very own.  And Bi, and Weng.”  He shook their hands.  “And you, too, Ziya Baby.  You have been a good girl.”  Baby was excited, but in a happy way.  She even let the man pet her, which was most unusual.  Normally, she only let the family touch her.  “And…” the man opened his arms, and Feyan leapt into them with a shout.

“Tien.”  She wrapped her legs around his middle, her arms around his neck, and whispered in his ear.  “Tell mother I love her, I mean Nameless loves her, and he loves you, and so do I.  Oh, Tien, I am scared.  There are soldiers and armies gathering everywhere, and I know it is important, and I should be there, but I am scared.”

Tien kissed her cheek and extracted her from her stranglehold.  He set her down, and walked her to the bow of the ship where they could talk; and he made sure no one else heard.  “As the daughter of Bi Gan, you are royalty, first cousin to King Bi Xia of the Shang.  You came here when your father was killed by the king.  Yes, your mother and your brother Quan are safe, but now you must decide for yourself.  Your uncle, Jiang Ziya, has taken the side of Lord Wu of the Zhou, and they plan the overthrow of Shang rule.  So, you see.  You have blood on both sides of the issue.  You must decide for yourself what you will do.”   He patted her head.  “You are young, but brave enough.  And I will tell you, I would like the Zhou to finish the change that began with the death of the Shang-Di, all those years ago.  But history is your thing.  You know how it is supposed to turn out.  I will follow your lead.”

“Why do I have to decide?  I’m just a little girl.” Feyan whined.

“And a cute one, at that.”  Tien smiled and disappeared, and Feyan came out, staring, looking much like Gongming when he received a shock of surprise.

“All secrets will be made clear in time, but some things are best not knowing in the first place,” Gongming said.

“Fortune cookie,” Feyan said, absentmindedly, before she spilled the most important thing to her.  “My mother is alive, and I have a brother named Quan.”

“Great,” people said.  Wang looked happy for her.  Aunt Chen looked conflicted.  Bi was not sure he liked the idea.

“Don’t worry Bi,” she said.  “You and Wang will always be my best brothers.  Now you have a younger brother, that’s all.  He must be a baby.”

“About five,” Aunt Chen said.  “The same age as you when you first came here.”

“And Aunt Chen, you will always be my mother, too.”  That made Aunt Chen smile, even if it was not exactly true.  But Feyan moved on and shook her finger at their three prisoners.  “And, so you know, that was Tien Shang-Di, and he did not say it, but I am sure he thought it real hard.  You three better be good while you are guests of Lord Gongming or the gods will be very, very angry with you.”  Baby roared, as she picked up on what Feyan was feeling.

###

It was after midnight, so Lockhart said everyone should take a two-hour shift.  “So we can get some sleep, and still be on the road by nine or ten.”

“Sounds reasonable,” a man said, as he appeared in their midst.  “So, what’s for late night snack?”

“Just leftovers,” Alexis admitted.

“My favorite,” the man said, before Katie and Lincoln recognized him.

“Tien,” Katie said it out loud.  He smiled.

“And I thought I was getting good at appearing human,” he said.

“Could have fooled me,” Lockhart said, and Tien laughed.

“By the way,” Tien spoke seriously as Decker cut the god some Chinese deer.  “I took care of the rear guard, and the one that hid on shore, so you are night creature free for the moment.  The djin, on the other hand, is a slippery character.  He has moved on to the desert, I believe.  Hot, dead land is probably where he belongs, what Alexis might call a natural habitat.  He is a fire creature, after all, like the ifrit, iblis and ghouls that you finally got rid of in father Yu-Huang’s day.  So, Elder Stow, no need to use up your batteries, unless you want to keep the screens up against the wandering soldiers.  That might not be a bad idea, but the further south you go, the less soldiers you will see.”

Tien stayed for a while, and they had a good conversation before they all got some sleep, and the horses rested.  Of course, the people all dreamed about being in a desert land, and did not wake up excited to get there, except for Boston, who dreamed about playing with the water babies.

************************

MONDAY

Avalon season 5, the final episode begins: Avalon 5.12 Bad Wine, which will post in 5 parts.

The travelers struggle through the desert of the Djin to get to Jerusalem, to the Kairos Korah, musician and prophet in the court of Solomon, the king…

Happy Reading

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